Home is where the Heart is
by James-Padfoot
Summary: “Why is it that when men decide they’ve been absolute jerks and decide to run back to the woman they’ve tormented, the woman is expected to accept and forgive him?” – Find out her answer to her own question. Will they make it, or break it? HarryGinny


**Title:** Home is where the Heart is

**Rating:** M (For mature themes and language)

**Summary:** "Why is it that when men decide they've been absolute jerks and decide to run back to the woman they've tormented, the woman is expected to accept and forgive him?" – Find out her answer to her own question. Will they make it, or break it? (Harry/Ginny)

**Disclaimer + Author Note:** The style of this story differs slightly from my usual work. It would be ultra-helpful if you reviewed this story, hate it or love it. The following song does not inspire this story, but after writing it, I found that as I listened to this song, it flows beautifully with the story. Song title: 'Candleburn' by Dishwalla. Oh, and in other news, I am the new JK Rowling and decided to post a story on this fansite. Pfft, yeah right.

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A spectacular display of orangey-red colors painted the skies, framing the receding sun.

One man witnessed this beauty as he leaned against the cool walls of the Astronomy Tower, his dark hair swaying gently with the evening breeze. Harry shut his emerald green eyes, enjoying the whispers of the wind as he waited for his friend.

Neville Longbottom had grown into a tall man, his boyish features replaced by those of a man who had seen war. And indeed, they had all seen war, being caught right in the middle of it. He did not think it possible to forget that the Boy Who Lived could have easily been him. It had been fate that picked Harry, (or Voldemort's stupidity, whichever you please) for he knew he could've never accomplished the task Harry had been set out to do. Nevertheless, the peace they enjoyed now did not belong to one man, but to all. The glory for defeating the Soulless-Murdering-Maniac (a nickname Voldemort acquired shortly before his downfall) did not belong to just Harry Potter alone, but his friends, the Order and with some due, the Ministry.

And it was Professor Neville Longbottom of Herbology that called this meeting.

Ginny Weasley cursed the aforementioned man for calling her out of her Yoga practice. She loved Neville as great friend, but his timing was ridiculous! How dare he interrupt her precious Yoga hour.

The door swung open with a thud, causing a relaxed Harry to swing around in alarm. His brow furrowed suspiciously as a red-haired woman walked in, closing the door behind her, unaware of his presence.

"Neville?" she called out.

Harry glared in the direction of the greenhouse, having figured out exactly what this meeting was about.

"I assure you, I am not Neville," he answered.

Ginny glanced at his profile, and seemed to catch on as well. "He set us up," she stated, walking towards him.

Harry did not move, merely observed her as she moved closer to him.

She was beautiful.

They had not spoken since he pushed her away after the final battle. He had just murdered someone. Two someone's, in fact. He was a murderer; she did not deserve someone like him.

Ginny stopped short three steps in front of him; she couldn't bear to be close enough to smell his aftershave. His eyes were clouded with guilt, with pain, with misery, and yet despite all, she could still see the glimmer of the man she loved and yearned.

He had pushed her away so roughly _that day_ that her heart broke like china plates smashed into smithereens on hard rocks. Whatever was left of her heart, the jagged shards, she would cut herself with, and watch as it bleed his name.

She had kept away from him, just like he did with her, because she couldn't take it anymore. She loved him so much it hurt to say his name. Ginny Weasley had stopped reading the Daily Prophet for his name and face usually graced its pages. She had moved away from her parents, far from her friends, far from him. And now here he was.

Harry's gaze moved to her face, he didn't need to see her to know what she looked like, all he had to do was close his eyes and she would be there. But for that one-second in which he looked, their eyes crossed paths, and emotions he thought he had successfully buried returned, powerful and raging. He immediately averted his gaze. Her eyes were treacherous; they called to his soul.

"Let's just get out of here, Harry," she spoke, unable to be so close to him any longer, angry he was behaving like a petulant child.

"Yeah" he rasped, moving towards the wooden door.

He tried turning the knob. It wouldn't budge.

"Alohamora!"

He cursed.

"Look!" she said, pointing to the door.

In bright pink, words began to appear on the door.

'This door will automatically open after 5 hours. I wouldn't try any magic in opening it. It shoots nasty curses. Sorry. But it had to be done.

Try not to severely disfigure me,

Neville.'

"You've got to be fucking joking," she swore. First, he disrupted her Yoga! Now, he stuck her in here with someone that was going to suck all life from her!

Harry glanced at her appreciatively; she was one of the few women who openly cussed.

"What are we supposed to do for five hours?" he asked out loud.

"What do you think Neville wants us to do, Potter?" she snapped.

"Since when did we switch to last name terms?"

"Since I've been stuck with you here for five fucking hours when obviously you want nothing to do with me."

"I didn't set this up!"

"Of course you didn't. I didn't say you did. Are you even listening to me?"

"Of course I—…"

She didn't let him finish. "I don't care Harry fucking Potter! I can't take you anymore! You have no idea what this feels like, okay! So just leave.me.alone!"

"My middle name is James" he sulked. "And I'm stuck here too. I can't possibly summon my Firebolt, considering it's God knows how many miles away, and you can't app--…"

"apparate in Hogwarts Grounds, according to Hogwarts: A History," she finished his sentence, imitating Hermione exactly.

He grinned, sulking about his middle name forgotten. "Yeah, that"

Ginny rolled her eyes and walked to the door, sitting down with her back facing the wood. "That still doesn't mean I want to talk or be near you. Just stay on your side of the tower till our five hours are over"

"Ginny…"

"No, Harry. You made your decision and I made mine. I don't want to talk about this anymore," she said, closing her eyes so she wouldn't have to see him. It was unfortunate that her stubborn brain refused to fade away the image of him from her imagination.

"We've never talked about this. You've never given me a chance."

Harry gulped as he watched the infamous Weasley temper unleash behind her chocolate brown eyes.

"You.didn't.want.anything.to.do.with.me.Harry _James _Potter" she intoned very clearly, grinding every word.

"We can still be friends!"

She laughed at his weak answer, an unhinged laugh. "Do you even know what the meaning of the word is? How can we possibly be friends, Harry? HOW!"

She gave him no time to answer. "Do you know how much it hurts to be near you? While everyone is rejoicing and praising your name, I have to hide away because the mere mention of you sends my heart spiraling down the nine levels of hell. Because you—…"

"Because I am a murderer, Ginny! A murderer! I killed Voldemort, although it was either him or me. But Bellatrix Lestrange, Bellatrix Lestrange I killed with my bear hands."

"She deserved what she got! She killed Sirius in cold blood."

"But I killed her, Ginny. The sword of Godric Gryffindor is smeared with her impure blood."

Ginny sighed, she didn't know how nor did she want to talk to him anymore.

Silence ensued, before he spoke again, as if there had never been a pause.

"7 times"

"What?"

"I stabbed her 7 times with the blade. I don't know what came over me. Even Voldemort only got one."

He moved from the wall he was leaning on, and walked towards her. Her body froze as he slid down next to her.

"Don't you see? I'm a murderer. I can't possibly be near you. What it--"

"Harry, for the last time, you are not a murderer. You gave those two bastards what they deserved."

"Who am I to determine what the do and do not--..."

"Shush."

Perhaps it was the change in the air, or maybe the way his voice had toned down considerably, like that of a lost person. Or maybe it was purple sky that was streaked with the last bits of orange. Whatever it was, it compelled her to lean her head on his shoulder, whispering to him it wasn't his fault. That he shouldn't question these things, that it was his destiny, and that he had accomplished it brilliantly.

"Don't say anything," she whispered softly, and silence once again blanketed their existence.

She was giving in to everything she had been shying against. So much for will power. Even if it meant having her heart torn again from her soul, she would endure it, for she knew, her heart she had given to him. It wasn't hers to claim, it was his. The only question was his intention with it. Would he let it shrivel and die, or hold and cherish it?

It felt like his world was shaking. That everything that had been upside down and wrong suddenly seemed upright and beautiful. He couldn't understand the sudden liberation he felt, it was hard to explain. Ron, Hermione, Remus, Snape, Mrs.Weasley, Mr.Weasley, even the Minister of Magic himself had counseled Harry away from his belief that he was a murderer. Yet none of them had truly succeeded, they believed his smiles, but inside, inside they would never know.

In less than an hour, she had finished with she was trying to do _that day. _To make him see the honorable man he was. The brave Gryffindor he had become. There was nothing bearing obstacle to their union now. He didn't need to protect her from himself; he would never hurt her (or not anymore, anyway) because he loved her more than life itself. Because he wasn't the murderer Bellatrix told him he was. He wasn't the murderer Lucius had screamed at him. No, he wasn't.

'_Sweet Merlin, Lord, will she ever take me back like this, broken, messed up?'_ he wondered desperately, as he moved away slightly from her.

Ginny raised her gaze to his, as he moved away from her. She knew this was coming. Funny, it had only been an hour. She hoped they could just be like that for at least another.

"I never meant to hurt you," he started carefully.

She closed her eyes, swallowing the lump in her throat. Why was he taking this road again? Did he enjoy pulling her heartstrings then cutting them loose?

"I won't in the future, if we have a future…"

What? Did she just hear what she thought she did? No, no, Merlin, she was hallucinating again.

"Ginny, please" he pleaded, seeing no reaction from her.

She didn't move. She didn't want to open her eyes and face the harsh reality. She wanted to live in her fantasy, in which he told her he loved her and they flew off into the sunset together to live happily ever after.

"I know, I don't deserve you, but I… I just don't know what… I know I want you in my life. I always have. I won't hurt you anymore."

Oh my god. She wasn't dreaming. Even her imagination wasn't that good. Those words were real. They were real. He really wanted this.

"Why is it that when men decide they've been absolute jerks and decide to run back to the woman they've tormented, the woman is expected to accept and forgive him?" She asked, finally facing him.

Harry shifted uncomfortably, looking regretful.

That was her answer, even though he didn't know it. Her question had been answered. It was because women, compassionate by nature, can't bear to see the one they love look lost, sorry and dejected. Because no matter the amount of scars punctured to her being, she will always accept him back, for women are strong.

Harry wanted to combust spontaneously into flames and burn into the ground for causing her more pain. Her question hit the spot. She was absolutely correct. How could he be so foolish to ask such a painful question?

The last rays of sun vanished in the horizon, causing the torched by the castle wall to burn to life. They sat in each others presence illuminated by firelight. It would have made a beautiful picture on canvas.

"And why is it, that the woman always accepts her man back, even if it means he will break her hurt again?" she continued, a notch softer as she watched the burning torch.

His brain was working fast to process her words. Still, she seemed so unstable, so crazy-beautiful, that he dared not take her in his arms and ravish her there and then. "He will never break her hurt again"

"Then he makes a promise he can't possibly keep"

"He will give every last breath to keep it"

"That itself is a paradox. He would still be hurting her"

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, I love you, and I wouldn't let that happen. You were my first, and you will be my last. I have never stopped thinking about you. Walking away was the only way to protect you"

"I don't need your protection. I need you to be with me"

"I am yours," he proclaimed.

"Kiss me"

And he did. Lips that had been deprived of kisses, ignited with passion that had been repressed. Her moist lips returned with unbridled hunger his kisses. How she longed for him inside her.

In the firelight, Ginny moved closer to him, hooking her arms around his neck as he griped her waist. Her vanilla taste mixed with his chocolate-mint scent, creating an intoxicating aura around them.

His tongue left no prisoners, they trailed from her lips, to her ear, to her neck, where he marked here. His love-bite stood out against her freckly skin, vividly. Ginny moaned his name, running her fingers from his hair down his chest, pulling him to her with force. His lips had found their way back to hers, the intensity of the kisses began to dwindle, for he was teasing her with light kisses that kept her wanting more.

Harry pulled away. He brought her on his lap, running his fingers down her face.

God, she was beautiful.

Ginny never felt more at home in her life. Home is where the heart is, after all.

She removed her robes, making his eyes devour her body, suited in her tights-Yoga-suit. He ran a finger down familiar paths; she had grown even more since their school days. Her breasts were fuller, her hips pronounced.

"Cover me" she ordered, pointing to his dark purple robes. Puzzled, Harry unbuttoned his robes so she would fit in comfortably with him.

He watched as she rummaged through her discarded robes for something. Wasn't the point of her disrobing for him to explore the rest of her luscious body? Why was she teasing him so?

"Ginny, what are you looking for?" he asked curiously, as his fingers combed her hair.

"You'll see, love," she answered.

Seconds later, she smiled as she produced a vial full of dark liquid.

"You love me, don't you, Harry?"

"Ginny, I would give my life, my soul, my heart for you. I love you with everything that I am"

His answer pleased her, and he was awarded with a long kiss. "I love you too," she whispered, caressing his cheek. Harry never felt more contented in his life.

However, as he eyed the vial, a question formed and he opened his mouth to ask the question.

"I want you to drink half of this, trust me Harry, just half" she requested, a soft melody resonating in his ears before he could form the coherent words.

He never got to the question. He loved her, therefore trusted her. It was therefore, without hesitation that he took the vial from her and swallowed half of its content without argument.

"It burnssss" he rasped, as he passed the vial back to her.

She did not say anything until she downed her half. "Its concentrated cyanide. I think it's supposed to"

"What! Are you insane?"

"No, just in love," was her calm answer. "You said you loved me. You said you would give everything for our love. Now you have fulfilled that promise. You can never break it."

He literally felt his life flash before his eyes, as an unspeakable sensation of pain worse than any Cruciatus burned his innards. She was right. He could now fulfill his promise. His time here on earth was done. He had done what he had been destined to do. Now he had eternity with her.

A warm hand grasped his own tightly, as Ginny slid down moaning.

"Just one question…Do you walk around with cyanide all the time?" he managed to choke out.

"No. Just the past 31 days. I love you, Harry. See you on the other side."

"I love you too…"

His last words.

Professor Longbottom was feeling pretty good about himself as he walked up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower. When he had last checked, he had heard the unmistakable sounds of kissing. He just hoped Ginny was properly dressed.

Neville performed the anti-locking curse, and the door creaked open. It only opened a quarter way, as something seemed to be blocking it. Neville had an idea of what (or rather, who) it could be. He closed his eyes and stepped in, not wanting to see anything he wasn't allowed to.

Once out on the tower, he grinned and said "Oi you two, five hours of quarantine up"

There was no response, so he peeked. They were fully clothed. Weird.

He looked at them with full vision. And screamed.

Years later, the sight of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley's lifeless bodies still haunted his nightmares. They looked so peaceful, like the cyanide that had killed them had instead been a draught of sleeping death. Hands that could not be torn apart, legs that could not be untwined.

In the end, he mused, as he tended to his plants, she had found the home she had always talked about. Home is where the heart is. She had said only then she could die in peace.

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_**Final Author Note & Brief Explanation:** Before I get hunted with pickaxes, hear me out. ) I intended this story to be ala fluffy and transcend into a lemon, but somehow, this Harry and Ginny refused. It just wouldn't work. They wanted to die. I could only sit and watch, but don't you think their death was beautiful, in the atmosphere and circumstance? There is also a lot of back-story, but somehow, Hermione and Ron's story, as well as Snape's innocence (Can I help the fact that I believe in him? Nuh uh. XD) and even Neville/Luna's story just refused to appear here. This one belongs to Harry and Ginny. Sorry if you were expecting a super fluffy ending (I have another H/G which is 100 fluff which you can check out) –Shameless ad-.  
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_Now… review (read: a drug that I need to sustain life with.), or else (bares fangs, points to Neville, who I will butcher if reviews do not feed me) _

_Thank you for reading and reviewing!_


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